In a hall charged with applause, emotion, and the glow of camera flashes, actor Khaled El Nabawy walked onto the stage of the Cairo International Film Festival (CIFF) to receive the Faten Hamama Award for Lifetime Achievement. Yet instead of turning the moment into pure personal triumph, he transformed it into a tribute – dedicating the honour to the workers of Egyptian cinema, whose unseen labour, resilience and devotion shape every frame that reaches the screen.
After the ceremony, he sat down for an exclusive conversation, opening up about the mentors who shaped him, the fears and victories along his path, and the roles that helped place him among the most influential actors of his generation.
Why did you dedicate the award to cinema workers?
Because they are the real backbone of the craft. We stand in front of the camera, but they work silently, tirelessly behind it. I felt it was my duty to say “thank you” through the award itself – they are genuine partners in the dream. I witnessed their dedication vividly during Al-Mohager, seeing the extraordinary effort that goes into every shot.
Going back to the beginning, which mentors shaped your artistic identity?
I am a student of many great teachers. I salute the legendary Hussein Fahmy and all my professors at the Higher Institute of Theatrical Arts. I also learned immensely from the late Mahmoud Yassin.
Director Ibrahim El-Sahen gave me my first major television role in Bawabet El Halawani, and Mohamed Abdel Aziz brought me into cinema with Laylat ‘Asal alongside Ezzat El Alaili and Soheir El Babli.
Then came Youssef Chahine – a defining chapter in my life. Chahine wasn’t merely a director; he was an inspiration. His brilliance lay in shaping the atmosphere for every scene and in seeing inside the actor what the actor himself had yet to discover.
I will never forget Farid Shawqi’s words when he said before a group of artists: “I bet on you from your first appearance in Bawabet El Halawani.” That was an enormous vote of confidence.
I also owe much to Enas El Degheidy. I was committed to a project with her, but when Chahine chose me for El-Mohager, she said: “Work with Youssef… he’s more important than me.” That is what true artistry looks like.
And then came Salah Abu Seif – my second film was with him, an experience I consider a milestone.
What about your film roles? Let’s start with Ram in El-Mohager.
Ram is the dream — innocence facing the world. I studied him deeply because I felt great responsibility. Building him required sincerity and detachment.
Ali El Halawani in El Dealer was entirely different — daring and ambitious. Because language was central to the character, I studied Russian phrases at the Russian Cultural Centre and travelled to Ukraine to absorb the rhythm of the language. Real performance lives in details the audience may never notice but that make the character real.
In Al-Mowaten, made after the events of 11 September, my aim was to present the intelligent, insightful Arab — not the stereotype some wanted to impose.
My international experience with Ridley Scott in Kingdom of Heaven was pivotal. He gave me the chance to portray an Arab character with dignity. That mattered to me both personally and artistically.
How do you prepare for your roles?
Through reading. I read the character hundreds of times. I read the entire script repeatedly. Reading breaks the barrier between me and the character. Study and research are the only path to authenticity.
Moving to drama, what does Wahat Al-Ghoroub mean to you?
This project holds a special place in my heart. I spent three months with the great writer Bahaa Taher before filming to understand Mahmoud Abdel Zaher in depth. Director Kamla Abu Zekry treated the series like a film — meticulous, detailed. It felt as though we were building an entire world, not just a show.
And in theatre, how did you approach portraying Sadat in Camp David?
At first, I refused. I didn’t feel I resembled President Anwar Sadat and feared it was the wrong choice. But director Molly Smith and writer Lawrence Wright insisted.
When I asked Smith why she was so sure, she said there was something Sadat and I shared: “pride, and the refusal to let anyone violate our dignity.”
Portraying a head of state on stage comes with enormous responsibility. You must convey presence — the audience must feel the weight of history. It was a major challenge but one that changed me deeply.
What role are you preparing for now?
I’m working on the role of a women’s team coach — a character full of human depth and challenges. I’ll reveal more soon, but I feel it carries rich, meaningful content.
How do you see the image of the Egyptian artist abroad?
As strong as our history. Egypt entered cinema before many countries, and that gives us both heritage and responsibility. When I work abroad, I carry my country’s name and culture with me. I always aim to present an image that is dignified and true.
I dream of the world once again placing full trust in Egyptian cinema — and of building a generation capable of competing internationally, one that doesn’t imitate but draws its power from its identity.
How do you feel after such a journey?
Gratitude. Gratitude to everyone who believed in me, to every role that taught me something, and to every opportunity that offered a new lesson.
And the dream remains: that we continue to treat art as a responsibility, deliver it as a message, and always honour the history of the country that pioneered cinema in our region.
